


{Festivities}

by MintySquirrel



Series: Loved [2]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pre-Thor (2011), Cursed Loki, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 09:53:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintySquirrel/pseuds/MintySquirrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div>
  <p> Thor hopes his brother can behave himself for just one night, but they don’t call Loki the God of Mischief for nothing.</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	{Festivities}

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Loveless](https://archiveofourown.org/works/869533) by [asaloki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asaloki/pseuds/asaloki). 



> [Tumblr](http://mintysquirrel.tumblr.com/)
> 
> This drabble is part of Loved; a companion collection to Loveless by [Waldostiel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/waldostiel/pseuds/waldostiel/), and takes place immediately after the events of Loveless: Prologue.

  
**Festivities**

Thor enters the ceremonial feasting hall behind his parents, with Loki at his side. He knows his brother dislikes the ceremonial garb he must don for the occasion, but Thor himself does not mind. He likes the weight of his armour about his chest and across his shoulders, the reassuring pressure of Mjölnir against his thigh. It grounds him. He feels purposeful, important even. The room is an impressive structure, built to house all the great Lords and Ladies of Asgard, as well as the realm’s nobles, serving staff and the entire palace guard. To his shame, Thor cannot remember what this particular celebration is in honour of, though he thinks it may be to mark the birth of a distant cousin. Not that Asgardians have ever needed a reason to feast, of course.  
Barely a night passes in Asgard where at least one of the great halls is not aglow with fires and filled with songs and voices. Most, however, are smaller affairs and do not warrant royal attendance, much less that of the All-Father. In years gone by, the birth of a nobleman’s son might have called for a captain to serve as a guest of honour, perhaps even one of the Warriors Three. Lately though, at his mother’s insistence, the whole family is making frequent appearances together. Thor is not ignorant; he knows how the people speak of his brother. He wishes he had the heart to tell his mother that these displays only make things worse. Loki detests the public intrusion, and his frustrated outbursts only serve to further fuel the people’s gossip and deepen the rift between him and their father. 

As they reach the wooden dais, the brothers take their appointed positions behind hand-carved chairs. Thor is on Odin’s right and Loki stands to the left of their mother. The Lady Sif and the Warriors Three also join the table along with the new parents to whom the feast is dedicated. The All-Father speaks briefly about his joy over the birth and about his hopes for the babe’s continued health and bright future before taking his seat. Thor and his mother follow suit but Loki remains still, looking out into the upturned faces of the crowd waiting before him. The hall is silent. Frigga places a delicate hand on her youngest son’s arm and Loki sits, but Thor can see the defiance has not gone unnoticed by their father. After a second that feels like a minute, the people take their places at the tables and the servants file out with wine and ale to fill the empty steins.  
The night progresses without further event, and Thor begins to relax. His brother is quiet and reserved, hardy becoming of a prince of Asgard, but otherwise well behaved. With the help of rather a fine, unusually potent ale presented as a gift to his father, his anxieties over Loki are soon forgotten. His laughter booms along with the other warriors at the table as they swap over-embellished stories of heroic deeds and daring feats. 

-

The ruckus of drunken revellers has never been a sound Loki was fond of, but the constant wailing of the infant somewhere to his left is entirely intolerable. He wants nothing more than to escape this loud, obnoxious prison and return to the serenity of his own chambers. When Frigga had bid her farewell, he had made to leave with his mother, but she had beseeched him to stay a while longer and enjoy himself. If it had been anyone but her, he would have laughed in their face. As it was, he had kissed his mother on the cheek and instructed a passing wench to refill his goblet with wine.

With a final glance into the little basket, Loki smirks at his handiwork. It will not be long before his mischief is discovered and he has no desire for a public altercation with Odin, or his own golden brother for that matter. Silently, he slips from the table and returns to his rooms. If he is lucky, he might get an hour to himself before Odin sends the oaf to seek him out.

-

Thor is drawn from his tale by the shriek of a woman, clutching her baby son to her breast. In seconds, both he and Odin are by her. The All-Father gently touches her elbow but she clutches the boy closer to her bosom. Thor puts his hand on her trembling shoulder. 

“My dear Lady, what is it? Tell me, what ails your son?”

Reluctantly, the sobbing mother holds out the child to him. The babe’s face is flushed red as its mouth works furiously, but there is no cry. No sound at all, in fact. A glance around the hall reveals that this is not the only strange affliction at the party. In an instant he knows who is responsible. He sees Odin’s brow furrow in outrage as Thor feels his own anger rising in his chest. The infant looks up at him with one clear blue eye. The other is masked by a tiny black patch. Just like his father’s.

And that was only the start.


End file.
